


Birdsong

by Sar_Kalu



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: AU, Bubblebath fic, Cannon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fluff, Kara Danvers is Gay, Lena Luthor is Gayer, Lena Luthor is Magical, SuperCorp, this is very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25605445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sar_Kalu/pseuds/Sar_Kalu
Summary: The first time Kara saw Lena Luthor was in her office and it felt like she’d been sucker-punched in the gut.Lena stood from behind her desk and smiled the kind of smile that indicated that neither visitor was welcome in her office. Still, she shook Kal-El’s hand like this wasn’t the man that had once been her brothers best friend and who had later exposed Lex Luthor’s business practices to be anything but what he’d professed. “Mr. Kent,” Lena greeted him, her voice was rich but cool, and Kara inched closer, feeling a bit like a magnet being drawn to a lodestone. Then those clear green eyes turned to her and if Kara had been sucker-punched in the gut just by Lena Luthor’s presence, it was nothing in comparison to being the centre of her attention. “And who might you be?”Kara’s mouth worked, but she was sure that nothing came out, there was too much in the way that graceful neck arched and those red, red lips curved upwards in amusement. Oh, her heart seemed to say, oh, her soul echoed, oh, there you are, Kara thought helplessly, gaping at Lena Luthor in stunned amazement...7K words of soft Supercorp. It's inevitable.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 54
Kudos: 532





	Birdsong

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: I haven't seen Supergirl since the First Season and I regret nothing about that - BUT I have more than a little bit fallen in love with Supercorp; and given that I've pretty much plumbed the depths of that particular tag on AO3, I felt like I ought to give back to the fandom. There's nothing particularly heavy about this fic, it's mostly a soft, gay romance no angst necessary.

The first time Kara sees Lena Luthor it is in Lena's office and it feels like she’s been sucker-punched in the gut. Kal-El crosses the office floor with easy strides, the secretary out the front has closed the office door, and Kara is still struggling to remember how to breathe.

Lena stands from behind her desk and smiles the kind of smile that indicates that neither visitor is welcome in her office; still, she shakes Kal-El’s hand like this isn't the man that had once been her brothers best friend and who had later exposed Lex Luthor’s business practices to be anything but moral and ethical. Clark Kent had won a Pulitzer, Lex Luthor had gone to gaol; and Lena Luthor had been left to pick up the pieces. “Mr. Kent,” Lena greets him, her voice is rich but cool, almost distant, and Kara inches closer, feeling a bit like a magnet drawn to a lodestone. Then those clear green eyes turn to her and if Kara had been sucker-punched in the gut just by Lena Luthor’s _presence_ , it is **nothing** in comparison to being the centre of her attention. “And who might you be?”

Kara’s mouth works, opening and closing like she wants to speak, but she is sure that nothing comes out, there is too much in the way that graceful neck arched and those red, red lips curved upwards in amusement at her shocked silence. _Oh_ , her heart seems to say, _oh_ , her soul echoes, _oh, there you are_ , Kara thinks helplessly, gaping at Lena Luthor in stunned amazement.

Kal-El shoots an exasperated look at Kara, likely hearing how her heart is thundering like a drum in her chest, and turns to Lena Luthor once more and gives his own aloof smile that is steeped in the aching history that stretches between them. Lex Luthor is a haunting wight in the centre of their conversation. “Kara Danvers, a colleague of mine from CatCo Magazine,” he introduces them in his steady voice. “Miss. Luthor, you must know why we are here,” Kal-El begins.

And Lena’s gaze moves from Kara’s face to Kal-El’s and a single dark brow raises at him, almost tauntingly. Despite the fact that Kal-El had been the one to instigate Lena Luthor's meteorically rise to power, Kara can feel that Kal-El holds none of the power; too burdened by guilt at what he and Superman had to do, at the loneliness that stamps deep at the corners of Lena's mouth. “Indeed,” she agrees, taking a step backwards, as if to put space between them all and Kara’s body jerks forwards in response, a tugging beneath her breastbone urging her forwards. “There’s a very good reason I wasn’t aboard the Venture yesterday, Mister Kent, I assure you. In fact, I’ve been expecting you,” and Kara feels something in her belly bottom out at the sight of those red, red lips twisting into a mischievous smirk, “and have helpfully prepared a USB drive with all the relevant information.”

Kal-El’s expression remains charmingly smooth, a polite smile upon his face as he steps forwards and accepts the USB from Lena’s own hand. Kara had almost expected the USB to be slid across the desk by a single perfectly manicured nail, but Lena it seems doesn't play petty games of power. “How fortuitous for us,” Kal-El agrees, his fist tightening about the USB, knuckles bleaching white and Kara waits to hear the crackle-pop of plastic; but it never comes. Kal-El has far better control than she does after all.

“If that is all?” Lena’s gaze turns to Kara once more, who has still not spoken a word and who is still wondering if she would ever be able to breathe easily ever again, now she knows there's someone like Lena Luthor in the world.

“Just a few more questions, if you please, Miss Luthor,” Kal-El says, slipping the USB into his pocket and sliding a voice recorder out from his leather satchel that straps across his broad chest.

Kara remains frozen, staring at Lena Luthor’s face, even as the other woman fields all of Kal-El’s questions with the masterful ease of one who is more than used to this kind of treatment from the press. In the half hour it takes for Kal-El to be satisfied with his interview, Kara couldn’t tell anyone what is said beyond her abrupt and unceasing fascination with every graceful move of Lena’s hands as they describe her words through the air, the gentle slope of her long neck that Kara is utterly unable to describe as anything other than swan-like, the dizzyingly sharp blade of her jawbone that Kara wonders if she might cut herself on, and the clear determined depths of Lena's green gaze that brings to mind everything from diamond-cut emeralds to the oozing terror of Kryptonite. Kara wonders if there's something more in that, than just fanciful imagination.

“Any further questions?” Lena Luthor asks, as Kal-El switches off his voice recorder and straightens his shoulders beneath the neat weight of his professional navy blue work blazer. “Perhaps from your CatCo colleague?” Lena turns once more to Kara with an expression that says she knows exactly what is running through Kara’s mind and that she isn't mad about it, “you’ve been very quiet.”

Like a rush of adrenaline, Kara finds herself suddenly capable of speaking, because oh Rao, she never wants Lena Luthor to ever stop speaking to her, to never stop looking at her, to never stop paying attention to Kara ever again and her babble is a torrent of helpless motion akin to an avalanche: “oh no, I’m just here to observe, I’m not actually a reporter, just, just, a, a beginner, I’m leaving everything up to Ka- uh Clark, who’s uh, way more experienced than I am, I’m just happy to be here, thank you for your time, I’m sorry, I’m new at this,” and Kara wants nothing more than for the floor to open up beneath the soles of her sensible brown work-shoes and to swallow her whole. “Sorry.” Kara says between jaws that are clenched with humiliation, her eyes firmly squeeze shut against the undoubtably exasperated expression that Kal-El wears and the hopefully not-entirely cruel amusement of Lena Luthor, who must be enjoying the stuttering nonsense of someone who came to interview her.

“Forgive my colleague,” Kal-El’s voice breaks into the silence that lags uncomfortably in the lee of Kara’s rush of words, “as she said, she’s not officially a reporter yet.” Kara’s eyes squeeze tighter shut even as Kal-El’s voice turns warmer, forgiving of her despite her intellectual dribble in the face of a far-too pretty girl. “We have high hope though,” and Kara manages to look at her cousin and finds nothing more than loving acceptance of her and Kara’s shoulders ease beneath the familiar weight of that stare.

“Is that so?” Lena’s voice is richer than Kal-El’s despite being lighter, as if she’s singing every word and Kara is utterly helpless against the pull of her, the tide to Lena’s moon, and she meets the sympathetic green gaze of a woman who is nothing short of enrapturing. Lena’s smile, when bestowed upon Kara, is like the summer sun and oh, Kara’s knees are weak for having witnessed it. “I could see it,” Lena agrees with Kal-El, her expression enigmatic and Kara feels like she could spend the rest of her life making her happy. Perhaps she should follow Kal-El’s footsteps and become a journalist. _It just_ _makes_ _sense_ , after all.

When they leave that office and walk past Lena Luthor’s assistants desk, Kara feel’s like the worlds a little colder, a little crueller for her absence.

…

…

When Kara was a child, she had watched old vid-comps of Krypton’s extinct races of birds for hours long after the unit on them at school finished. The irony of her love for birds being tied up with her desire to know what flight felt like was felt heavily when she ended up on Earth and discovered that she didn’t have to wonder what flying felt like anymore. She knew intimately what it was like to soar beneath the golden rays of Earth's yellow sun, the heat of the young star hot against her back even as she crested high over mountains and trees. 

As she became used to this new world, Kara would perch on the roof of their Midvale house and watch the birds fill the dawn air with song. Spend her time witnessing what it was like to see the world wake up, the blush of jewel bright colours bleeding across the watercolour sky all to the sound of wing beats and the mournful sounding chorus of all the birds of Midvale. When Kara grew to her late teens, the birds came to recognise that she wasn’t a danger to them and her fascination and patience was rewarded as little wrens would alight on her hands, larger crows would preen her hair, and starlings would flit about her head. Eliza encouraging this gentleness with buying seed for the birds and at times, the only peace Kara knew was when the birds were around. Especially when Alex graduated High School and left Kara on her own.

The incident of the helicopter in the nighttime was one that would haunt Kara for weeks after the fact. Not the least of which was the precious time spent coaxing the younger woman from her seat and into Kara’s arms. That Lena Luthor wasted even more time demanding that they go back for a coat made from long black feathers was even more uncomfortable for Kara;, who had snatched it up and bundled it into Lena’s stunned arms. Not that Kara really registered it, more distracted by the fact that Lena’s face tucked in beneath her chin was a perfect fit and that Kara was no more capable of speech as Supergirl around Lena Luthor than as Kara Danvers.

A fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Lena Luthor either - something Kara is definitely not telling Alex ever.

It with these thoughts swirling around in her head that Kara ends up perched on her windowsill, much as she had in her youth, looking out over the street below her apartment and softly stroking the downy head of a piebald pigeon. Overhead the sky is streaked red and gold as the dawn breaks the slate darkness of the previous night’s terrors. Alex had long since gone home and all the world is silent about her, holding its breath before birdsong breaks, and serenades the morning bustle of National City's human population.

Kara’s face is tipped up towards the sky, watching the lightening of the dark to midday blue and hoping that today will be easier and calmer. So focussed is she, that Kara doesn’t see the sleek black sedan pull up below her, nor does she see the willowy figure of a pale woman wrapped in a coat of long, slick blue-black feathers. Kara does notice when the woman softly calls her name and the pigeon on her knee startles into flight at the sound and she also notices how the woman is holding two coffee cups and a large brown paper bag at her side. Kara feels warm for looking on her, a smile curving the corners of her lips even as she beckons Lena Luthor indoors.

It takes barely five minutes for Lena to make her way from the front door of Kara’s building to the front door of Kara’s apartment; but those are five minutes spent tracing the click of high heels through carpeted hallways and the rustle of feathers over fabric and gosh, Kara feels warm, her cheeks rosy with anticipation and the smile she gifts Lena when she spots the other woman rounding the corner is nothing short of radiant.

“Kara,” Lena says and oh, Kara wobbles at the sound of that voice, her own quite stolen by the sight and the sound of Lena moving through her front door. “I brought breakfast?” Is said as a peace-offering as Lena leans a hip against Kara’s island counter, a smile curving red, red perfect lips.

Kara nods wordlessly, eyes huge with the sudden realisation that Lena Luthor is in her apartment, and oh, no, her gaze darts about the messy room, supersuit tossed idly over the arm of her sofa, plates and bowls stacked on the coffee table, and a mix of DVD’s spread across the floor before the TV. Kara’s honestly not sure which is worse. Kara's grateful that she thought to shower, even if she hasn't slept today, and there's a thunderous pounding in her chest, making it hard to breathe, but it's not from fear, because Kara couldn't ever fear Lena Luthor, even if common sense might demand that she should. Instead Kara wishes to reach out, to touch, to see if those feathers are as soft as she remembers, if Lena's skin is as warm as she imagines; and it to this that Lena calls her name, startling Kara's inner musings, breath knocking from her lungs yet again at those glossy green eyes resting gently upon her. _Oh._

“Kara,” Lena calls again, this time softly, oh so achingly softly, and her gaze is so, so gentle. “It’s okay, I know, I won’t harm you, I promise,” and Rao, Kara can’t let Lena think Kara doesn’t trust her, because Kara does, inexplicably, implacably, Kara Zor-El trusts Lena Luthor with everything she is.

“I know,” Kara tells Lena hoarsely, a deep heavy sigh slipping from between her pale lips. “I know,” she repeats and watches with amazement as something unknots in Lena, watches as she unfolds from that tight posture to something more languid, more easy; watches as Lena's expression turns incredulously open as she sees the truth of it in Kara's steady smile, and then Lena's head tilts to the side, wondering then why Kara might be so flustered by her. Understanding then blooms and the blush that creeps across Kara's cheeks is mirrored in Lena's, as the younger woman's mouth opens in surprise, a smile tugging at the corners of her red, red lips and it feels like they're speaking without words.

Lena’s head tilts again to the side, this time at the coffee she's set down on Kara's kitchen counter, silently beckoning Kara closer, “thirsty?” She asks as if there’s something more folded into that word than just asking Kara if she wants a drink, and Kara steps forwards helpless against Lena's magnetic everything.

Kara, who’s always been terrible with pop culture, smiles hesitantly almost in confusion and joins Lena at the counter, sliding into a chair and bumping shoulders with her, feeling warm and full for the brief contact. “More hungry,” Kara admits.

“I’ll have to sign something, won’t I?” Lena asks as she divvies up the croissants and the little oval pastries that Kara doesn't recognise, that she’d bought for them both, the lions share going to Kara, who groans as she bites into the still hot, fresh baked pastry with hedonistic ecstasy. Lena’s cheeks wash with pink at the sound and she stares at Kara almost dazedly, and Kara lets out a long, low hum of pleasure.

“I have no idea what this is,” Kara says as chocolate drips down her wrists, and Kara chases it with her tongue; ignorant of how Lena watches her with intense fascination, “but I think it’s my new favourite food.”

“Pain au chocolat,” Lena tells her breathlessly, blinking rapidly as nerveless fingers rip into her plain croissant and spread flakes of pastry everywhere. “It’s a delicacy and a personal favourite of mine.”

“It’s so good,” Kara hums, “almost as good as pancakes.”

Lena’s laugh is bright and easy, startled from her like a bird from a tree. “High praise, I’m sure,” Lena agrees warmly.

“The highest,” Kara assures her.

“So, paperwork?” Lena prompts carefully; “also I have something to show you,” and Kara frowns as Lena’s teeth worry endlessly at her bottom lip. Kara wants to soothe the sting of that bite, wants to feel the plush velvet of those red, red lips on her own, the brush of their mingled breaths against her mouth before closing that distance and feeling everything they could be together in that one point of contact.

“Paperwork,” Kara murmurs, eyes firmly fixed on Lena’s lips, wondering what they were talking about again.

There’s a long pause before Kara drags herself back to reality and flushes a brilliant red beneath Lena’s knowing gaze, those lips she was so fixated on are now twisted into a deeply amused smirk and Rao, that smirks doing things to her belly that even the bite barely managed.

“Right,” Kara clears her throat, expression wild with repressed desire. “Uh, yes, probably. At the DEO,” and Kara stills at the thought, wilting, “oh, no, I’ll have to tell Alex…”

Lena’s eyebrow raises pointedly, “Alex?”

“My sister,” Kara whispers, as if speaking her sisters name at full volume might summon her. “She worries about me - constantly.”

“You’re a superhero,” Lena says, as if that’s explanation enough.

Kara nods, “I still get hurt though.”

“No,” Lena interjects, “you’re a superhero, you’re always in danger - of course she worries about you. You’re her sister,” Lena says this with the authority of being a sibling, even if her sibling relationship is more complicated than Kara and Alex’s, “you’re likely everything to her.”

“Was…” Kara winces, tucking herself inwards, “was Lex everything to you?”

“Once,” Lena agrees woodenly, the word dragged out of her reluctantly.

“I’m sorry,” Kara rushes, “I shouldn’t-“

“No,” Lena denies once more, “I’m just not ready. It’s not easy. I’m sorry.”

Kara wriggles in her seat, wondering if she should apologise again. “I’m-“

Lena laughs softly, “Kara, it’s fine, I’m fine.” Green eyes peer at her fondly and Kara’s smile twists pathetically, wanting to remove every hurt Lena’s ever experienced and make everything better.

“You had something to show me?” Kara asks finally, prompting in lieu of having anything else to say.

Lena leans backwards, still smiling. “I do,” and something deep in Kara’s chest sparks at those words and she jolts a little in her seat, almost like she’d been dipped in something hot. Lena’s standing now, pulling her coat tighter around her and stepping out of her heels, stockinged feet making soft sounds as Lena crosses to the centre of the room. “Are you ready?”

And Kara doesn’t get a chance to ask what for, because then Lena’s changing, melting inwards, folding like an origami crane and then bursting out, and where a young woman with black hair and green eyes stood, is now a swan clad in black feathers with bright green eyes and pale masking about the eyes; and _oh_ , that explains her grace...

“Lena?” Kara gasps, falling to her knees at Lena’s side, hands reaching out to soothe over the glossy black feathers of the swan only to pause once more, because where do you draw the line? Where can you touch, when you know this is another person? Kara doesn’t realise she’s crying from Lena’s beauty until Lena’s pale bill is smoothing the tears from her cheeks, concern clear in her green eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” Kara admits helplessly, always having loved birds and here now is a human who knows perhaps better than even Kara, what it’s like to fly, swim, and just be. “You’re amazing,” Kara breathes, watching how Lena’s neck curves, s-shaped, at her compliments, the movement just as studied and graceful as Lena’s were two days ago in the office. “Oh, gosh, _oh, Rao, Lena_.”

Lena’s body twists and turns once more as she returns to her more humanoid shape, standing above Kara’s crouched body and now that they’re close like this, Kara can see how well developed Lena’s arms are, how soft the swell of her hips are, and how lush her skin looks, draped as it is with her swan-feather coat. Smiling, Lena dips down and draws Kara to her feet.

“Don’t tell anyone?” Lena asks, a crease of worry present between her eyebrows.

Kara’s shoulders square and her jaw sets, unknowing of how much like her alter-ego she looks in that moment and how it leaves Lena breathless, “of course,” Kara assures Lena, blue eyes so very serious as they bore into clear green. “I’ll guard you with my life.”

There’s a subtle shift then and though they go back to breakfast, Kara feels like somethings changed between them. Like that invisible force she’s felt since day one is represented on both sides, and Kara wonders at the inevitability she feels as they return to breakfast, watching Lena pluck the softer parts of her croissants from their hard pastry shells and leaving a disastrous mess across Kara’s kitchen counter and yet, there’s a warmth here. A solidness that Kara wishes would never leave.

Kara doesn’t think she’s ever felt so warm.

…

…

There's a swallow under-head as Kara zips through the sky towards the newly renamed L-Corp and Kara can’t help but mimic it’s joyous wing as it flits and dips through the air. The sun is shining high above and it’s been a wonderful day. Kara’s positivity precedes her as she makes her way to Lena’s office, notebook in hand, and the soft smile she gets when Lena realises she’s there is more precious to her than anything else she’s seen today.

Their interview is short, more filled with gentle get-to-know you talk than anything hard hitting; but Kara’s article is nonetheless sensational, if only because she bucks the trend of ripping Lena Luthor to pieces, instead detailing the new piece of alien detection technology with moderation and caution. That the technology will only be available to health professionals is the only good thing about it in Kara’s eyes, that Lena had confided in her that there was a secondary piece being developed, to allow those aliens without human features to go about their daily business, was a mitigating factor in the story. Kara had run both pieces of tech, had done a full compare and contrast, dipping into the ethics of both. Snapper is reluctantly impressed, not that it stops him from covering every inch of her first submission in red ink. The article runs on the fifth page of CatCo and the following day finds Kara’s office filled with flowers,

Lena’s texts are no less effusive and Kara feels that warmth all over once more, filling her cheeks with colour as she bends over her phone and fiddles with the arm of her lead-lined glasses, grinning shyly. _I’m glad you liked the article_ , Kara texts Lena with no less than fifteen colourful emojis ranging from smiley faces to hearts.

When Lena’s reply, _of course I loved the article, it was written by you_ , comes back to her, Kara feels like her heart might have grown wings and lodged in her throat.

KD: _I loved the flowers, Lena, thank you_

LL: _Anything for my favourite reporter <3_

Kara screenshots the messages and tucks it into a special folder, where she won’t have to scroll up to reread them again. Kara looks out her office window across the city to where she can see the tall, shiny chrome skyscraper with L-Corp emblazoned on the side, and if Kara concentrates, she can even see Lena standing in the centre of her office, looking at her phone with a small smile on her red, red lips, and Kara jolts when her own phone buzzes once more in her hands.

LL: _Lunch tomorrow? My treat. Xx_

Kara’s not sure if she’s floating or not, but she knows that her smile could probably light up the night sky with how brightly she’s feeling. Her reply is a long complicated mix of red heart emojis and clapping hands and nestled in the middle is a single word: _YES!_

…

…

Lunches together slowly turn into dinners both out at restaurants and at home, and Kara learns that Lena might prefer to eat salads because of her teen years being filled with cruel press releases following her weight and figure, but that Lena definitely prefers to eat greasy burgers and thick cut steak chips that she has imported in from the UK because “their fries are so much better, Kara, trust me.”

And Kara could almost believe that this is why perfection feels like. Neither feel the need to rush because they know they can take their time, there’s no need to hurry. Everything they are feels like an inevitability. Every step they make down the sidewalk, arm in arm, laughing at something or other; every breath shared at night on the sofa, lazily watching movies and shows, arms pressed together as they lean into each others warmth. They fall inwards, like planets drawn in by gravity, learning a new balance where each pushes and pulls at the other.

If Alex hadn’t been so caught up in Maggie and her coming out, Kara thinks perhaps her sister might have seen more than just friendship between them. As it was, it takes weeks, months, for everything to come crashing down about Kara’s ears; and even as it does, even with Alex staring at her in betrayal and horror at catching Kara and Lena sharing one of many first-kisses in Kara’s kitchen, dirty plates piled next to the sink, Lena’s hands wet and red from the hot, soapy water, and Kara’s own resting on Lena’s hips.

“Kara?” Alex’s voice is hard with recrimination but Kara can’t bring herself to step away, for all Lena’s tense against her and her sister is staring at Kara like she’s lost her mind, nothing makes sense like Lena kissing her.

“Alex,” Kara says, wondering what will happen from here.

“You were kissing Lena Luthor.”

“I was,” Kara agrees, feeling like she’s a million miles away from herself. Still, she’s able to tighten her grip on Lena when the other woman tries to pull away, but Kara’s utterly incapable of letting her do that. What follows Kara’s agreement is a mix of finally kissing Lena, not wanting Lena to ever leave her again, and an attempt to make her sister understand: “I love her.”

Lena’s shocked gasp is subtle, Kara thinks she might never have heard it, felt it, known about it if she wasn’t pressed up against Lena; but it’s nothing on Alex’s choked noise of surprise.

“You love her?” Alex demands thoughtlessly, “I wasn’t even aware you were friends!”

Kara blinks, her thumbs rubbing circles into Lena’s hips and she feels Lena shudder beneath her touch and oh, but that’s a fascinating feeling, Kara’s gaze is dragged away from Alex to where Lena stands in front of her, eyes glassy and wide with emotion. “Well,” Kara says so softly she isn’t really sure she says it at all, “you have been busy.”

Alex’s heaved breath sounds almost like a grunt of pain that comes from being hit and Lena’s shoulders wrench backwards, eyes flying wider still as she looks at Kara. “Kara,” Lena scolds, unable to let her best friend(? girlfriend?) say something so hurtful like that to he sister, who Kara talks about _constantly_. Lena cannot be responsible for another failed sibling relationship; and Kara’s face colours as she ducks her head down, shame filling her.

“I’m sorry Alex,” Kara apologises.

Alex unfolds her body and lifts her chin. “You’re not wrong though,” Alex admits sadly, shoulders falling. “I’m sorry too.”

This was where the sisters would normally hug, but movement behind Alex reveals Maggie holding three cups of coffee, wide-eyed over what she’d overheard. Kara narrows her eyes at Maggie even as Alex’s gaze sweeps over Lena, weighing up the woman her little sister professes to love. The silence stretches on until Alex heaves a deep breath.

“We should go,” Alex says, a subtle retreat, acknowledging her intrusion.

“Brunch at Noonan’s tomorrow?” Kara asks, reaching out despite the distance borne of a month and more's absences; they have a lot to catch up on, but they are solid, Alex and Kara will forever be best friends and close siblings. Even the sting of this moment will fade quickly under the weight of their love for each other.

Alex’s smile is as accepting as it is relieved and both she and Maggie turn about-face, closing the door behind them. “Tomorrow,” Alex shouts through the thin wood of Kara’s front door and Kara’s smile is bright and happy as she returns her eyes to Lena's stunned expression. And oh _,_ _oh_ , Kara can see everything in those green eyes.

Lena unravels beneath Kara’s touch, melting into her arms, ignoring how wet her hands are from soapy dishwater, Lena’s fingers knot into Kara’s pyjama top and she fuses their lips together, knocking the wind from Kara’s lungs, not for the first nor the last time.

Kara heaves Lena up and into her arms, revelling in the feeling of Lena’s legs hooking high and tight about her waist, and how Lena’s core rolls into the flex of Kara’s abdomen and suddenly the easy pace of their relationship is swept up into a bright wildfire of feeling. Dirty breakfast dishes are left next to the sink as Kara moves through her apartment to where her bed zests beneath the open window, the golden sunlight is streaming in and alighting along the luscious lengths of blue black feathers of a coat hanging up in Kara’s open closet beside her supersuit.

Super and Luthor press down into the plush mattress of Kara’s bed, the long neck of her beloved arching beneath the soft touch of her lips and Lena’s gasping breaths get mixed up in a mess of half-stuttered words that slip from between red, red lips. Kissing Lena has always been one of Kara’s new-favourite thing to do, learned over the past two weeks, but pushing Lena's soft shirt up and over her belly and breasts, trapping it about her wrists and watching as Lena writhes and arches beneath her is quickly taking its place; because, _Rao_ , her face is flushing a soft and gentle red, her fingers are flexing as if seeking Kara's skin, and her green eyes are growing hazy with divine pleasure that only Kara can give her.

Lena’s skin is so warm, so soft, beneath the pads of Kara's seeking fingertips and it is like ecstasy to finally breathe her in, mapping the long lines of her bones, the soft curve of her muscles, and the rounded velvet weight of her breasts in her hands. Kara could almost weep for how perfect this feels, how right, how settled and centred she feels right now; it's like poetry in motion. Kara traces her tongue over Lena’s aureole and laves at her nipples, suckling them into her mouth and groaning in counterpoint with Lena’s breathy cry.

Even as Kara touches and delights in touching Lena, so Lena touches and delights in touching Kara. Long fingers tangle in blonde tresses, tugging and guiding those pink lips and that clever tongue from her breasts to her lips and back down her throat and jaw, drinking Kara in as much as she possibly can, her knees drawing up over strong hips and dragging back down heavily muscled thighs and the sheer sensation is everything. Strong hands cup Kara's jaw and drag their lips together, catching on teeth and tongue, sloppy and messy and wet, their breath caught humid between them both, and it's like insanity to feel this warmth, this plushness, this curving of muscle over bone in her bed. Kara's breathing is ragged and desperate and Lena's is no smoother, her poised professionalism going up in so much smoke as Kara smoothes two broad hands up Lena's torso and press her shoulders into the bed, pressing firm heavy kisses to those red, red lips before she slides downwards until her knees hit the floor with a dull heavy thud and Lena is left, propped up on her elbows, staring as Kara waits for her consent, eyes blown black until there's no blue in those eyes that watch Lena with restrained waiting hunger.

Kara 's hands rest on two firm thighs that roll beneath her fingertips and Kara's a glutton for that feeling, the press inwards on flesh that marks soft pink, begging for Kara to lay soft kisses over-top. Ignoring the demanding downwards tug of her hair by Lena who attempts to control Kara's actions, Kara arches up to find the gentle plushness of Lena’s belly, marked with feint white stretch marks and tiny little imperfections that rasp so delicately beneath her tongue and Kara revels in the desperate, sobbing roll of Lena’s hips, feels the give of Lena's skin beneath her hands, feels the flex of the muscles in Lena’s inner thighs - first about her chest and abdomen, and then about her ears and shoulders as she hooks strong fingers into the waist band of Lena’s shorts, drawing them down silky thighs just made for kissing, and Kara rolls the skin between her lips, chasing the scent of her from knee to the top crease of her thigh, where crinkled, silky hair resides.

The heat of her is as incredible as that first wet taste, and Kara has no idea who moans loudest, all she knows is that she could spent the rest of her life between Lena’s thighs, could live for this heat, this scent, this delight alone. Live for the feeling of two hands knotting in her hair, live for the suction of her fingers deep in Lena’s cunt that drips milk and honey, and the taste of her rolling over Kara’s tongue is the closest she’s ever felt to holy communion since standing beneath Rao’s sacred light. Kara's eyes slip closed and she listens hard as Lena arches beneath her touch, learns to pull cries out of Lena with the press of her fingertips, learns to draw soft sighs that hitch upwards when Kara rolls Lena's clit between her lips. Learns to bathe in the scent, the feel, the taste of her; soaks herself in it, presses ever inwards, wonders if it might not be possible to make a home here in the cradle of Lena's thighs, just so she can always hear those sounds that fall like rain on her ears.

Lena’s breathy cries increase in pitch as Kara presses forwards, that long pale body arches up, curving over Kara’s head, hands holding her in place as if Kara has any wits left not dedicated to pleasuring Lena, as if Kara could ever leave and the soft, delicate skin of Lena’s labia rolls beneath Kara’s lips, the tip of her tongue traces hard and fast over Lena’s clit, the flat breadth of Kara’s tongue sweeps lazy long lines even as her fingers ease in and out of Lena’s entrance, delighting in the feel of her, the warmth, the heavy flex of her inner walls that spasm the closer she edges to orgasm, and it’s like a loop in Kara’s brain, she’s drunk on it, flex fingers, lick, flex fingers, suck, flex fingers, circle clit; and all the while, try not to suffocate as Lena’s hips roll down against her mouth and knowing that if she were to die like this, that Kara would do so happily, drunk on the taste, the feel, the sound of the woman she loves beyond everything else she's ever known.

Kara couldn’t tell you how long it was from that first press into the bed to the final cry as Lena’s back bows, one hand flying up to shove itself between capped, white teeth, those red, red lips frozen in a rictus of pleasure even as Lena’s thighs entrap Kara’s head in place, her remaining hand in Kara’s hair as close to pain as Kara’s ever experienced and still Kara continues, driving Lena from her first to her second orgasm in as many minutes and it’s not until Lena’s hand is shoving at Kara’s head, that Kara eases up, sliding back on her knees and away from the one place she wished to remain until the sun ate the world at the heat-death of the universe.

Spread out against navy sheet, Lena looks like a fallen angel, wings spread wide, one knee cocked up and angled to cover her cunt almost protectively while her other leg relaxes draped over the edge of the bed. Lena’s chest is heaving, a dazed smile tugging at the corners of those red, red lips, as though incredulous that even happened at all and when Kara stands, she only achieves verticality long enough for Lena to reach up and pull her back down again.

Lazily Kara sinks into Lena’s arms, wound up but not overly concerned about it, more than happy to melt into Lena’s curves and mould her body into her own. Nestled into Lena’s neck, Kara feels solid and grounded, as though this is all the home she needs and has been seeking since that day that Krypton exploded all those years ago. So distracted she is by the feel of her, Kara doesn’t feel Lena move until Kara finds herself on her back, staring up into mischievous green eyes that look down upon her with nothing short of hunger and sheer desire.

“Careful,” Kara whispers into the anticipatory quiet, “you can’t slip your fingers inside me, I can’t control those muscles, I could break your fingers,” and Lena’s long, slow smile is nothing short of predatory in reply to that, as she braces herself above Kara’s body, breasts pressing heavy against Kara's chest, the soft weight of them making Kara gasp, while Lena's legs bracket Kara’s hips and if Lena didn’t have Kara’s wrists pinned to the bed, Kara might have ignored Lena’s intent in favour of touching the dark haired woman once more, her desire licking fire up her spine-

At the first touch of Lena's fingers to her sopping wet cunt, Kara's helpless to remain in Lena’s hold because Kara flails, seeking grounding even as she feels like she's flying high, her hands rip free from Lena's embrace, almost upsetting the younger woman's perch above Kara, and anchored itself in Kara’s sheets, Kara’s head pressing back into her mattress, neck straining even as she almost sobs from the feeling of Lena, _her Lena_ , touching her intimately for the first time. “Rao,” Kara groans, hips flexing helplessly as pressure eased through her aching folds slippery-wet with desire, and the sob that escaped Kara at the feeling of Lena first circling her entrance before pressing at her clit is nothing short of desperate. A wet ragged sound that has Lena hushing her red, red lips over Kara's panting mouth.

"I have you," Lena soothes, rolling her hips down even as she speeds up the messy circling of Kara's clit. "I have you."

If Lena had been pure poetry in movement, Kara was desperate stillness, horribly aware that a fragile human was in bed with her yet utterly in need of climax that her every muscle locked up and minute whimpers grated out from between clenched teeth. In no time at all, and yet still felt like forever and a day, Kara’s hips bucked impulsively as torrential warmth spread out from the cradle of her hips and thoughtlessly, Kara’s hand darted between her legs, almost knocking Lena aside in her need, and she impaled herself on two fingers even as Lena’s fingers continued to circle Kara’s clit, eking out the last of her orgasm, panting at the sight of Kara squirming beneath her, fingers flexing yet still between her legs, body curled up and around Lena’s own, in protective desire.

“You feel empty at climax don’t you,” Lena murmurs, stroking Kara’s hair as she slowly relaxed beneath her and Lena smile at the happy-dopey expression that pastes across Kara’s lips.

“Sometimes,” Kara agrees, “but you’re everything to me, so I don’t really care.”

Lena hums in acknowledgement at that, even as she wonders if a titanium strap on might be strong enough to survive Kara’s Kegel muscles. The fever that had consumed them dissipates now, leaving both women with a soft-gentleness that comes from the comfort of having someone you love safe in your arms. Murmuring wordlessly, Kara turns in Lena’s arms and drags her nose up her neck, planting a barely-there kiss to her pulse point.

“I love you too, you know,” Lena says inanely because at this point its obvious that they love each other but still Kara stills beneath her touch, turning bright blue eyes up to look at Lena in delighted shock, a bright smile curving her lips.

“Really?”

Lena’s soft huff of amusement is warm and loving, and she presses her and Kara’s foreheads together. “Really really,” she tells Kara.

Kara’s smile is brighter than the sun and Lena’s laughter is softer than the midday breeze that picks up Kara’s curtains and sends them streaming inwards. Outside their little island paradise of calm, a pair of starlings dance through the bright blue sky, their song filling the National City air with joy.

…

…

Bonus:

Kara sits on Lena’s penthouse apartments balcony, admiring the shine of the moonlight on her new bracelet that Lena had very smugly presented her earlier that evening. “Do you know the significance of this?” Kara asks finally, turning to Lena who has Kara cradled between her legs.

Lena’s hum is enigmatic as it is taunting. “Do you know the significance of picking up a swan-coat and returning it to the owner?”

Thrown, Kara blinks rapidly.

Lena’s smile turns smugger, if at all possible. “I know the significance of the bracelet, Kara,” Lena confesses, “and I mean it too - but I have one last secret to tell you.”

Confused, Kara twists in Lena’s arms until she’s kneeling before the other woman, her blue eyes gentle and steady. “Whatever it is, it won’t change my answer,” Kara admits, knowing she’s too far gone on Lena to ever come right again.

Lena moves a lock of hair from Kara’s forehead and tucks it behind her ear. “Do you remember the night you rescued me from that helicopter?”

“Yes.”

“And do you remember my demands that we go back for my feathered coat?”

“Yes.”

“And do you remember that you refused to let me go back in, instead flying around the other side to collect it yourself and then you gave it back to me when we were safe on the ground once more?” Lena asks, smoothing her thumbs across Kara’s cheekbones.

Kara’s answer is a very soft, “yes,” that drags quietly like a prayer from between her lips, utterly aching at the loving touch Lena’s giving her.

“Did you know that to give a swan maiden back her cloak without threat and of your own violation is to marry her?” Lena’s expression is nothing short of mischievous as Kara freezes as she processes that announcement.

“I married you that night,” Kara checks.

“Yes,” Lena agrees with a wicked smirk.

Kara holds up her bracelet, “then why give me this if we’re already married?”

Lena shrugs, “I want to marry you the Kryptonian way too; not just the swan maiden way.” Tilting her head to the side Lena smirks, “besides, you didn’t know that, you do know this; which makes it more meaningful.”

Kara’s face ripples through various expressions before settling on elated. “We’re married.”

Lena’s brow crinkles faintly. “Yes?”

Utter delight illuminates Kara’s expression, “you’re my _wife_ ,” Kara gushes.

Surprised, Lena bursts out into laughter, a joyous song of sheer exhilaration and love. “I love you Kara Zor-El,” Lena tells Kara seriously, wondering why she had ever been scared to tell Kara about the cloak in the first place.

“And I love you, Lena Luthor,” Kara tells her wife and then, just because she hasn’t in the past fifteen minutes, Kara kisses Lena’s red, red lips and delights in everything that makes Lena, Lena. “So much, my wife.”

…

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> please come yell your opinions at me on [tumblr](https://sar-kalu.tumblr.com/), or if you don't have a tumblr, feel free to yell them at me below. :))


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